Things were not looking good for a photography week, although the weather in London is not necessarily a reflection of the weather in the islands of Scotland. I left the airport hotel and it was pouring with rain. It was about a 10 minute walk from the hotel to London City Airport and I was sweaty and wet when I got there. Great, Im going to have to spend the rest of the day sitting in wet clothes!
I dropped off my bag, which, I hope, is checked in all the way to Stornoway, but I guess I will find out whether or not that is the case when I get there. I kept my camera gear in as, if that goes missing, Im going to struggle on a photography week with no camera.
Security was a breeze - almost no queue I was through by 5.30 and the screens indicated they would be showing the gate for my flight at 6.30. Oh well, I guess I could have had another hour in bed, but Im quite neurotic when to getting to airports early, although, on this occasion, its not like I could get stuck
We took off and promptly entered the thick white cloud (so much for my window seat view), but by the time we got to Edinburgh the weather had improved significantly. Things may be looking up, although the ground was wet, so it clearly had been raining.
It was easy to walk through from arrivals into the departure lounge, which made my transfer extremely easy and I could just find something to eat and relax until it was time for my next flight. I gave the Weatherspoons a miss (is it too early for a beer still?) and just got a tea and a croissant from Pret.
I thought it was just a clich or for ceremonial occasions, but there were a lot of men in the terminal in kilts. No photos though as I didnt want an angry Scotsman questioning why Im taking his picture and Im not very good at sneaky candid photos.
the smallest I had been in since a similar plane in Indonesia when we had flown to Bali, minus all the rust of course and, this time, with a tartan tailfin. Logan Air is Scotlands airline according to all the announcements. I did check that I had a sickbag as my strongest memory from that flight was the simultaneous filling of numerous sickbags (see Brits Abroad Meet Australians Abroad).
I watched from the terminal as the engineer checked all the propeller blades. Yes, they all seem to be there.
The flight was fine - slightly rougher than the jet from Heathrow, but nothing to worry about. Being Scotlands airline Im surprised that the aircrew were not all wearing kilts though. Not to mention serving haggis whilst the sound of bagpipes enhanced the atmosphere. Not that Im stereotyping at all here, perish the thought.
Stornoway airport is tiny, which is actually a good thing. It was a very pleasant little terminal, with a single baggage claim and an area of tables and chairs for relaxing before or after your flight. I didnt need to wait for long as the photographer who is running the workshop came in to find four lost photographers
I did feel quite rough by the time we got to the hotel, which is probably the cumulative effect of the flight and the windy roads. Harris and Lewis is bigger than I thought, but the roads are what you would expect - windy and narrow. The hotel is right on the boundary between the two islands, which are actually joined despite having separate names.
On the way, we saw a rival photography group photographing a dilapidated old house. Their lead photographer was a friend of our lead, so our lead hooted his horn. We think it made them jump, but luckily he realised who it was before there were any offensive gestures towards what they thought was just an obnoxious driver. Not that they would expect any of those here, this isnt London after all, with their cutting into the queue to the Blackwall Tunnel.
I had soup for lunch to settle my stomach, which was very, very tasty, so would have been a good choice anyway. It was something called Cullen Skink, which is smocked haddock, leek and potato.
